Under The Radar
by Libertyne
Summary: High School isn't easy. If you're not one of the popular kids, then you're nothing.  A Samcedes story told through the eyes of an outsider. Second Person POV.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Under the Radar

Disclaimer: I don't own it, so don't sue.

Summary: High School isn't easy. If you're not one of the popular kids, then you're nothing.

A Samcedes story told through the eyes of an outsider. Second Person POV.

**A/N: Please review! I'd like to know what people think about the story and the POV. Reviews are love :)**

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><p>High School isn't easy. If you're not one of the popular kids, then you're nothing. While you get miffed that you're not on the radar just yet, a part of you is happy about that. It's your second year at McKinley High School and you can remember the days of Junior High, talking with your friends about how excited you all were to move on up in the world; how everything will be different once you get to High School.<p>

Well things are different, that's for sure. Just not in the way you've imagined. Your friends from Junior High are more like distant acquaintances now, all those vows of 'friends forever, no matter what!' now ring hollow in your ears; just empty proclamations from those who give you an empty smile whenever you pass them in the hall. Some have gone on and made a difference for themselves; they've found themselves at the top of the food chain, as far as Sophomores go, and others aren't even on the radar at all.

You? Well you're in between. You have your friends and a bit of a social life, but all in all, you manage to stay under the radar but you're still not really a nobody. You're fortunate for that, you suppose. You don't want to deal with common things that come with being popular: the peer pressure and the need to fit in, on the other hand, being completely unpopular gets you things you don't ever want to deal with like excessive bullying; the shoved against lockers, the mocking and – worst of it all – the slushies.

_(You have to admit that when you see the jocks round the corner with the Big Gulp sized plastic cups in their hands, you press yourself against your locker, as if doing that will totally make you incognito. Your sigh of relief when they pass you by without second thought is inevitable; though guilt replaces the relief quickly when they find their target.)_

Being under the radar also afforded you other advantages as well. You're the first to admit that you have a tendency to be a nosy person, though you're not obvious about it. You're an observant person, despite the look of disinterest you've mastered so well. People don't notice you, or if they do then they just assume that you're focused on other things and it's through that, that you've heard many many things. So now, without effort, you are officially a 'people watcher.'

Not in a creepy way or anything. Just as an observational standpoint. You don't know much about those who catch your eye. You know some basics about them, the rumors that surround them, sometimes it's only their name. It makes it more interesting for you. You try to read their emotions, or their body language, and try to fill the blanks in yourself.

You're probably far from accurate, but it's still fun nonetheless. You know you'll probably never know if you're right or not. Not unless you manage to get into the social circles of those you've watched, and let's face it, that's probably not going to happen.

You've stopped running your own theories by your friends as soon as they side eyed everything you've told them.

_Dave Karofsky gay? Yeah, okay. He's just an asshole, plain and simple. I really doubt that it's because he's got some self hatred thing going on. You're giving someone like Karofsky too much credit, if you ask me._

_Oh my God, you and your theories. Santana Lopez? Okay, now you're being completely ridiculous. She's, like, banged every guy in school. You know, you're starting to worry me with all this talk about the gays and lesbians at this school, This is Ohio. Stuff this interesting doesn't happen in Ohio._

So you keep your mouth shut and your observations to yourself. Even though rumors went flying like crazy when one Santana Lopez may or may not have been outed thanks to one Finn Hudson, you say nothing. It's a fucked up situation all around, and you don't feel much like bragging to those who doubted you. Whatever. Nothing else has proved to be true anyway. Maybe you are reading way too much into things, but still, it keeps things so very interesting.

It's a slow day today and you find yourself dragging your feet at your locker because you're dreading going to Miss. Hagberg's Math Class. You're no math wizard, but you're pretty sure that the square root of 100 is not 1 and that for triangles, all sides do not equal 360 degrees.

You have a 15 minute break until you actually have to will yourself to go to class, so you spend your time lurking by your locker, shoving books in, taking some out but leaving your eyes and ears open. You're an observer, after all.

You watch the crowds of students filling the hallway, some trying to shove their way to their next class, but most are being loud and obnoxious. You see Noah Puckerman wink lasciviously at Chelsea Stevens, who returns the gesture with a look of disgust. You watch as Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry rush down the hall, hand in hand, in deep conversation (Well, Rachel Berry is doing all the talking; Finn looks really confused, and possibly constipated… like he has no idea where he is.)

You see Scott Cooper and Rick Nelson – sans slushies but Mullets intact— strolling as if they own the place. You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, because you definitely don't want to get on their radar.

Sighing, you hoist your books closer to your chest and move to shut your locker, but something to the left of you catches your eye. You pull yourself closer to your locker, allowing your eyes to peek from the side of your locker door. You watch as Sam Evans scowls while shoving books in his locker. This surprises you because Sam Evans is almost always smiling.

Not that you know much about him. You know that he attended McKinley last year before his family upped and moved to Kansas, or Kentucky, somewhere like that. He's returned, though, but it's different this time. He's still in the glee club, but this time around there's no letterman jacket on his back or Quinn Fabray on his arm. He seems like a nice guy, one that smiles at everyone he passes in the hall, and though he's not your type, even you have to admit that he's a decent looking guy;almost like what you'd imagine Macaulay Culkin would look like if all his features actually went together.

As with every other student at school, you've heard rumors about him, too. Nothing damaging or anything like that. Just the typical down on your luck kind of thing and situations that happened beyond his control. You've always been a little curious about the glee club; in a way you think a lot of people are. While those kids aren't on the top of the totem pole, they aren't exactly chopped liver, either. Secretly you like to think that everyone in the school actually respects them all, but no one will ever come out and say it.

You push your stray thoughts aside and go back to sneaking looks at Sam Evans, your mind trying to figure out just why he's looking pissed off today, with an extra chip on his shoulder. Your mind flips through everything that you know about him, but nothing rings a bell. Nope, he's always come off as a laid back guy who rarely lets things get to him.

You eye your watch, noting that you have three minutes to haul ass and get to class. You're about to give up on the mystery that is Sam Evans when you see his demeanor completely change. Suddenly his entire posture changes, his shoulders straighten, the scowl from his face is gone, replaced by a look of –

Regret? Sadness? Longing?

Oh, this interests you. You bite your lip as you casually cast your eyes in the other direction, hoping to catch his line of sight. The hallway is thinning now and only a handful of people remain. You want to stomp your feet in frustration, because the people that are still here aren't the one who could possibly be making him –

and then you see her. Looking back at Sam for a second to double check your theory, you follow his line of sight back and you now know more than ever that this is the cause of his… _pining._

Mercedes Jones is a self proclaimed diva. She walks with a sway of her hips, light on her feet with an air of confidence. She moves with a purpose no matter where she's going. She comes off as though she really doesn't care about anything, but you've observed her enough to know that there are times when she wears her emotions on her sleeve. You can tell when she's happy (her smile is amazing, you have to admit. It lights up her features and you can practically feel the happiness radiating from her) and when she's pissed (she has what you like to call a "get the fuck out of my way" look. Very intimidating. She can part hallways with that look).

She's walking now, towards whatever destination, with a purpose as usual. You watch as she strides, confidence full and then her step falters and her bright smile wavers. Almost as soon as it happens, it's gone; she's slower in steps and her smile is a bit more dim but all she does is push a curl behind her ear and moves forward. She's good.

You watch as she squares her shoulders before she approaches Sam Evans. He's wiped the sad look of longing off of his face, but his eyes are still gleaming with adoration. They're talking in low, hushed tones although it doesn't come off as secretive or anything. Sam is smiling as he leans casually against his locker, body relaxed, all traces of the chip on his shoulder completely gone. They're both smiling now, Mercedes grinning widely at something he's said (You're betting it's one of those impressions he does cause he just got a real goofy look on his face.)

Suddenly she's laughing loud, they're so relaxed, and you feel the small bit of jealousy coil in your stomach. It's a rare thing, honestly, to see two people like this completely at ease with each other; completely carefree and open. You can't believe that within three minutes, you've gotten so invested.

Checking your watch you realize that you have one minute to make it to class, so you sneak another look at the couple. He's teasing her now, and she's trying to suppress a grin while rolling her eyes. He murmurs something with a raise of his eyebrows, and she's hits his arm, looking embarrassed at whatever it is he's said.

They must've realized the time because Mercedes pulls her books closer to her chest and Sam straightens from the locker. She tilts her head at something he's said and a curl strays from behind her ear. You suck in your breath as you see Sam reach forward to tuck that errant curl back, but his hand freezes mid air and after a couple of seconds he shoves it back into his pocket.

You glance away, suddenly feeling like an intruder on this very private moment and you see Shane Tinsley at the end of the hall (and really, it's not a shocker. Does he ever have a class? He's always lurking in hallways when you see him.) He's texting on his cellphone but you look back to Sam and can see his demeanor has completely changed again. He's shoulders are squared and his back ramrod straight. He tilts his head at Mercedes, who turns around and the wide grin she's sporting falters.

It occurs to you just now that what you just witnessed was a very private and personal thing and now you feel shitty for it. Mercedes Jones and Sam Evans had been an item at one point (no one knows the extent of their relationship) and now she's with Shane Tinsley; their relationship going solid and strong. You turn to your locker as Shane walks up to them and exchanges hello's with Sam before offering to walk Mercedes to her class. You sneak a look and see that Sam doesn't even try to smile at Shane's greeting, and he flinches when Mercedes takes Shane's hand, allowing him to lead the way.

His expression is hurt, but just like that he inhales deeply and it's replaced by a blank one. You move to close your locker and look over your shoulder to find Sam Evans looking right at you. You don't flinch or look away, instead offering him a small smile that you hope goes a long way. You wish you can walk up to him and tell him that it will all work out. That even you can see the love that's between them.

But you can't, so you don't. Instead you hope that your smile seems encouraging without being sympathetic; that he realizes that you're totally rooting for them and goddammit, you want an invite to the wedding when this is all fixed.

In the end it only comes out as a smile though and that's all he will see. He gives you a small curt nod as he passes you, his lips twitching and you hope that someday these two crazy kids will get their shit together.

The bell rings and you sigh as you close your locker. High School isn't easy. If you're not one of the popular kids, then you're nothing. Being under the radar sucks sometimes, but it has it's advantages. You get to observe social circles outside of your own. You get to watch lives from the sidelines, without ever getting involved. You know you're not always right, though times like these you hope to be. But in the end, whether you're right or not, it doesn't matter because it's not about you, is it? Lives move forward, people move on and feelings change. So you try not to invest too much into anything anymore. Besides, what's it matter anyway? In the end, you still don't know these people. You're under the radar. You're just an outsider who doesn't really know much at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Please see Chapter One for all that fun stuff.

**A/N: Okay, due to some requests, I put up a second chapter (now I'm really done because I don't think I can extend this further.) This is still the same narration, second person POV and this takes place around Heart. Sorry if this sucks. Personally I didn't like this turn out but maybe others will?**

**If you like it, please review. If you don't like it, please review. Reviews give me life, tbh! Plus they totally boost my confidence and make me smile which is nice, right?**

You're only in the second year and already you feel like you're going to break. Not because of all the exams you have to take; not because of all the drama that you have to see and deal with, but from all the vapid stupidity that you're surrounded by everyday. You're not a special snowflake. You don't consider yourself above everyone else. There are just times when you can't understand the hype and excitement over the most minor things. Most recently: Valentines Day.

You don't get it. You've never gotten it actually. You didn't get it when you were in Elementary School and you were forced to bring chocolates and valentines for every kid in the class (including the class jackass at the time.), or in Junior High when the school held the annual Valentines Day Dance and encouraged students to choose their valentines. You don't get it now.

The halls of McKinley are littered with paper hearts and fliers advertising the beloved holiday. The mood throughout school is somewhat happy; girls are strolling with lovesick looks and chocolates clutched to their chests and you're resisting the urge to vomit up the bagel you ate earlier.

You know your attitude sucks. Plenty of people have told you that you're a cynic, and you never bring yourself to disagree. You don't know why you can be the way you can, just that you are. Besides, you're not a complete pessimist. You believe in love and happiness, but you know it never comes that easy and it's not always happy. Pessimist cynic your ass. You consider yourself more of a realist.

–

The week gets progressively interesting to say the least. From the buzz over the Valentines Day party Sugar Motta was throwing, to the serenading to fellow students that the self proclaimed God Squad was providing. You were in the quad when they delivered one to Rachel Berry. You're surprised that no food was thrown when they performed (although you're convinced that other students actually enjoy these types of performances; they'd just never actually say it out loud) and when you watch them, you wonder briefly at who the new kid is, but you don't dwell on it too much. So until you find out his name, you settle on calling him Dread-head.

Sam Evans, Mercedes Jones and Quinn Fabrey make up the other part of the God Squad _(and wow, is that awkward for them, like, at all?_) and aside from the cheesiness of it all, it's a really good performance.

Throughout the whole performance, you can't help but notice that Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones are sneaking looks at each other. Except it's really not that sneaky. It's so obvious that you actually look around you to see if anyone else is seeing what you're seeing. However, everyone else is focused on the song, or the performance, or... whatever. You hold back a laugh (but allow a smile) when Sam starts to rap (!) and then proceeds to steal a rose from Julie Stevenson (_okay, Evans, that was a little rude._)

No food is thrown, no one heckles the performers and Rachel Berry is smiling by the end of it all. It's weird, you think. It's almost as though everyone at McKinley have forgotten their differences and grudges and allowed themselves to band themselves together, just this one time.

–

Not surprisingly you're not invited to Sugar's party (you didn't even _want_ to go anyway.) because of the rule about bringing a date (_stupid, stupid rule_.) so you make plans with friends to go to a movie or something. You wander the hall, ignoring all the squeals and excitement over the upcoming weekend and you spot Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones by her locker. It's like the time before, only their body language is completely different. Sam's arms are crossed over his chest and he's pouting (pouting!). Mercedes glances over her shoulder for a second before moving in closer to Sam and touching his arm gently. Whatever she says to him causes his pout to disappear and be replaced by a small smile. Something's changed between them. You're not sure what it is, but you'd bet money that it's gone a lot further than sneaking looks and flirty banter. You duck to your locker and fumble with your lock. Jesus, what is your deal lately? You've been totally nosy lately

You sneak another peek and take a look around the hallway. Yep, it's just you and only you, alone in this weird, creepy fascination with these two and their non romantic relationship. You spot Shane Tinsley making his way down the hall and you actually have to stop yourself from yelling out a warning to them. You focus on opening your locker when Shane approaches. Nothing exciting happens, Shane seems unaware of whatever it is happening between those two. You watch as Sam slips away quietly and wonder if it would be out of line to talk to them about possibly coming up with a signal to warn them, something like the bat signal... or maybe even a bell on Shane. That would work, too.

–

Sam Evans is pouting again.

The halls of McKinley are buzzing with excitement over the upcoming weekend and Sam Evans is shoving his books inside his locker with an attitude. You flinch when you hear him curse when one of his books topples out of his locker and when he shoves it back in with unnecessary force. The rumors were running wild today. Mercedes Jones broke up with Shane Tinsley, reasons unknown. You'll never admit that your heart damn near stopped beating when the news broke. You'll never admit that your day had gotten considerably better. So you're surprised to see Sam Evans in such a bad mood.

You watch as people push past each other in the hallway, most eager to finish out the day and get home. You see Mike Chang walk up to Sam and put a hand on his shoulder. Sam's expression doesn't change but his demeanor does. He turns to Mike and offers him a half assed smile, and you think you hear Mike ask something like, "You okay, man?"

Sam nods halfheartedly, and turns back to his locker. "Great," He mumbles. "Fantastic."

Mike chews on his lower lip for a moment, claps Sam on the back gently and says, "It'll work out, man. Just give her some more time."

"Yep." Sam says, his voice clipped. "More time."

You stop yourself from looking over, because you know if they see you, all they'll see is someone who has a look of pity and sadness and yeah, they totally don't know you. So that might be really, really weird. So you close your locker and prepare to walk away.

Not before seeing Mercedes Jones walking to her locker. Gone is her stride and confidence. Instead she looks resigned and quiet, like she doesn't want to be noticed. You watch as she looks past you, and you know she sees him because her shoulders stiffen, she takes a deep breath and turns to her locker. She's fumbling with her combination, trying to concentrate and you can tell that her mind is on other things. Sam Evans walks by with Mike Chang and Mercedes chances a glance. Sam doesn't look her way. Not once.

She sucks in another deep breath, looking completely dejected before squaring her shoulders and going for her combination again. It's time for you to go, so you move from your locker and she sees you.

You give her a small smile and when she doesn't return it, you're not offended. You don't know her, and she doesn't know you, but somehow you know that you're both thinking the same thing.

Valentines Day sucks.

–

When you go back to school Monday, you feel lighter on your feet. Despite not having a date or anything, your weekend was fun. You got to hang out with friends and forget about life in general for awhile. All in all, it was kind of awesome.

People are running through the halls, the sugar still in their system, apparently. You hear small snippets of details about Sugar's party and other parties that happened during the weekend. Sadly, part of you is excited to hear about the breakups and makeups that happened in those whole two days.

By lunchtime the atmosphere has returned back to normal. You take a break from studying in the quad to run to your locker to grab your history book. The hallway's still littered with Valentine fliers and hearts and you say a quick thanks that it is all over. Mercedes Jones is hanging by the home ec room with a couple of kids that you know are in the glee club, including Sam Evans. Tina Cohen-Chang and Rachel Berry are chatting excitedly about something and Mercedes is nodding in agreement. Every now and then she and Sam look at each other, and while things still seem awkward, it seems better. You hear squeals about Regionals and a wedding and how things are starting to look up. The two minute bell rings and everyone breaks apart, readying themselves for the last half of the school day. Rachel and Tina walk off together and Sam hangs back. They're not really speaking to each other, just sort of... lingering. You hear Sam offer to walk Mercedes to her locker and Mercedes politely declines. If he takes offense to it, you don't notice. He murmurs something to her and she touches his arm and gives him a smile.

You don't get it. There's no Shane in the hallway to interrupt them, they're able to talk and be open; no chains holding them back from just being together, and yet they're not. They're still quiet about whatever it is that they have; still hesitant about their actions and feelings. That though both are hurt in the situation, they're still communicating. It's then that you realize that whatever happens, they love and respect each other. That it's because whatever it is that they have isn't only restricted to themselves. Their relationship and feelings for each other go beyond that. It's not some puppy love that withers and fades depending on the day of the week; these two have some full on, grown up ass, love.

Sam walks away first, backwards, still looking at Mercedes with his eyes soft with adoration as he says something in an accent you don't recognize (was that... was that _supposed_ to be Darth Vader?) and Mercedes grins and shakes her head, turning to go to her locker.

You grab your book and head back towards the quad. You look as Mercedes opens her locker. You've never really paid attention to anyone's locker before. Inside hers she has cut out's from fashion magazines, pictures of her friends and (what you assume) family. She reaches into her backpack and pulls something out. She holds it in her hand, as if testing the weight of it. You'd be lying if you said that you weren't straining your eyes to see exactly what it is. It's a small figure, painted red and white. You can't tell much else except that it looks to be painted rather nicely with some intricate details. You realize it's a statue of some sort, maybe something Valentines related. Mercedes palms the figure again, as if she's unsure of something. The bell rings, reminding everyone to go to class and she snaps out of whatever reverie she's having, setting the statue gently down on the lower left shelf of the locker. Taking one last look at it, she grabs her book and closes her locker, tossing you a brilliant smile on her way to class.

Hoisting your book bag over your shoulder, you can't help but smile back. It's probably not as bright as hers, but then again, you don't think anyone's can be brighter than hers is at that moment. You walk to your class, your footsteps lighter and your outlook on everything suddenly brighter than ever. Maybe, someday, you can have something like that. Something that will make you smile just as wide and just as radiant as that.

Maybe.

Someday.

You hope.

Okay, you concede just this once, maybe Valentines Day isn't that bad after all.


End file.
